I'm eight days away from having a baby, and life is interesting.
Chris gave me a sweet surprise last week, mysteriously requesting as he left for work that I be wearing a specific outfit by a certain time. When the time came, we dropped Lucy off at my sister-in-law's and then headed out for one last nice meal. (Hence the outfit request: he wanted me to feel comfortable in a fancier restaurant without telling me that was where we were going.) We went to a new place with great atmosphere and even better food, and had a very pleasant and peaceful lunch. Until I had to go and break the peace, quite literally. In some random spastic move I, instead of gently setting my goblet of water on the table as I intended, shattered it into about million peices, soaking the tablecloth and sending shards of glass in all directions.
I have no idea what happened. I think my hand must have just stopped working or something. This at least backs up my assertion that the three cameras I have broken in the last nine months are not entirely my fault - it's this baby, who is making me really, really clumsy.
Aside from extreme physical incompetence, late pregnancy seems to have given me some weird aura of voodoo. We went to DC this weekend to meet up with some friends, and as we ushered the girls across the street toward the Washington Monument a woman stopped me to ask if they were all mine. I get this all the time, so I gave my standard answer. Instead of the standard response ("Wow! You must have so much energy!," "Were you hoping for a boy?" or the super-standard, "Are you done now?") the woman told me that she herself was hoping for a baby, and asked me to give her luck. I don't generally think of myself as a walking fertility goddess so I was somewhat taken aback, and ended up just wishing her good luck before taking off to catch up with my family. I guess I should be grateful that she didn't ask to rub my belly (a pregnancy phenomenon that I really, really hate.) The whole thing left me feeling weird and uncomfortable, though.
Only eight more days to go, though. Here's hoping I make it through without either breaking anything of value or finding myself accidentally participating in pagan rituals.
Monday, September 20, 2010
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8 comments:
Oh wow the hormones and imagination are raging.
Say a prayer for that lady- desperately wanting a baby is very hard.
Love
Mom
You know, they were late getting back from lunch, so I was freaking out because I was locked out for like 5 minutes.
Oh Katie,
That had to be scary for you.
I think you are old enough and responsible to have a key. It will make you feel safer.
Much Love
Grandma
We are going to get one. We just have not got one yet.
Great Katie,
You will not feel so stranded that way. No matter what the weather you can get in.
Much Love
Grandma
I should have mentioned that the woman who stopped me was probably close to 60 years old, single, and a little ... off, mentally. I don't want to come across as callous towards people who struggle to have kids!!! This lady was just weird.
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